


Meant

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Heat sucks.
Relationships: Ray Green/Philip Pearson | Traveler 3326
Kudos: 22





	Meant

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When he comes to again, it _hurts_ , rushing through his veins like a bad trip and fogging up his brain. Philip’s sweat right through the sheets—they cling to his naked body, damp and clammy, the pillow wet from his own drool. He’s disoriented, lost, but burning up, and yet he wants to pull the blankets higher up around him. There’s dim light coming from a window overhead, one that shouldn’t be there—there are no clear windows in his warehouse. Then he realizes that he’s not _in_ his warehouse. 

He can small an alpha on the pillow—not MacLaren or Carly. He takes comfort in it, turns to bury his nose in it, breathing it thickly in because it smells like _his_ , and that’s such a comfort. His mind is reeling, body broken. He feels like he’s suffocating. He senses an alpha coming through the door and blearily peers over, sure his eyes are bloodshot.

Ray’s standing there, wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low down his hips. His naked chest is a little sweaty, looks a little dirty, dusted with dark hair. His haggard face twists into a soft smile when he meets Philip’s eyes. 

Philip’s at Ray’s house. It comes back to him—Ray helping him in from the car, stripping him down, pushing him into bed and promising to take care of him. Philip was raving, desperate—he clung to Ray’s arms and _cried_. It shouldn’t be Ray’s burden. He shouldn’t be Ray’s at all. It can’t be his protocol five. But his team leader’s busy with someone else, and he has no one else. And at the moment, Ray smells _perfect_. Philip keens and reaches for him.

Ray wanders closer, chuckling fondly—he crawls up into the nest that Philip’s made out of the blankets. He comes into Philip’s arms and pets through Philip’s scraggly hair, murmuring, “How is it?”

“Hurts,” Philip rasps. It hurts _so much_. But it feels marginally better when Ray’s touching him. 

Ray hums, “Yeah, the withdrawals will make it worse.” But Philip’s trying to quit. He thought he was improving. Obviously, it’s not enough. It’s almost as bad as it was in the future, and the air here’s not recycled, the food _real_. But he didn’t have Ray in the future. Ray leans over him, fidgeting with the nightstand, then brings back a glass of water and tells him, “Drink.”

Philip obeys, because he doesn’t have the strength to deny an alpha that he trusts. He lets Ray cup the back of his head and tilt him up—the water slips past Philip’s lips and down his throat, but he can’t taste it. He isn’t hungry, isn’t thirsty—he just _wants_. Ray mutters, “You should go back to sleep.”

Philip blearily shakes his head. He hears the glass clink as it’s set back on the table. He shuts his eyes and opens them, but his vision doesn’t clear. Ray looks _hot_. Philip’s skin is crawling and he _needs_ more of Ray around him. 

He licks his lips and asks, “Can you, uh...”

Ray fills in, “Fuck you?”

Philip breathes, “ _Yeah_.” That’s just what he wants. He’s frantic for. He longs to be with a Ray in a way that words can’t describe. Ray grins like he’s the lucky one. 

He mutters, “My pleasure,” and leans in for a kiss.


End file.
